Hey, you.
I hate to admit it, but I literally laughed out loud when I saw you for the first time. We were in Geology class the September of our freshman year of college, and you were wearing anything and everything that screamed, "I'm in a frat!" The backwards hat, pastel shirt, neatly pressed shorts, and loafers were the opposite of me; most definitely not looking to impress anyone, the living example of flying under the radar. My ripped up jeans and beat up boots were probably a slap in the face to how clean-cut you were, in comparison. I was the professional bookworm on campus, and you were the walking Easter egg who could funnel beer like nobody's business. My bright red combat boots were the first thing you laughed at about me. But hey, it was only fair.
Fast forward about five months, and we both found ourselves in a very unlikely friendship. I tutored you, and you helped me come out of my shell (and paid for tutoring with food because I always forgot to eat, but that's beside the point). But most of the time, I was trying to figure out why I liked you so much. It honestly bothered me. In the back of my mind, you were the Easter egg who walked into the first test of the semester an hour late in his pajamas. You were the shaggy-haired guy who wore a backwards ball cap with a suit. And I was...me! I was the girl who needed the catalyst to become someone better than who she was at that moment; I needed to break out of my anxiety-induced shyness. So the week that school got cancelled due to snow, we went off-roading in the Jeep I had to take a running start to jump in to and we ordered wings and pizza at two in the morning.
The introverted academic pro and the confident chatterbox were an unlikely combination that made us unique. While I could write my thoughts out for miles on end and not have to peep a word, your bright personality is a smack on the back of the head telling me to get out there already! Since meeting you, I envied your ability to gravitate people toward you, and that, well, ended up also drawing me toward you! Where I am gentle and sensitive inside, you absolutely insist on teasing me until I snap back at you with my own (not-so-witty) comeback. You bring out my inner rambunctious (and maybe just slightly immature) college student, making the astute bookworm in me melt away. Who knew embarrassment could help someone become more outgoing? Initially, I thought you were picking out the things I wished I could change about myself: how small I am, my shyness, my naiveté. You even laughed at my flowery boots, too! Something about me must have been wrong...right?
It took me so long to realize that was your mode of affection; what had rubbed me the wrong way was your weird little way of flirting and being sweet...kind of. And that sealed the deal. It's the caution we have when talking about the future because we realize that, hey, life happens. I wasn't suffocated with affection that weighed me down like the looming thought of marriage and kids (because we obviously have to get married as soon as possible); the simple I love you's I get to hear are nonchalantly spoken in conversation but heartfelt. It's not the promise of a shiny ring or a fairy tale wedding but the small forehead kisses and a tight squeeze goodnight that show love. It's not having the exact same interests and strengths, rather the beauty of how different we are. I love fussing at you in Spanish and seeing the perplexed look I get in return! I love learning the country music you like, then scaring you with my collection of eighties thrash metal. I always enjoy looking up from my book to see you tinkering with something.
So thank you for being the push I didn't know I needed. Thanks for forcing me to come out of my shell when you drag me to a party (or what others see as a small group of people). Thanks for showing me a world outside my comfort zone, even if it's something so simple as going bowling with a group of rowdy gentlemen or watching a crappy horror movie.
Thank you for being you, and most of all, thanks for laughing back at me.
